Today, again in the place of the tomb, we wait. Our dear Jesus, bruised, broken, and bloodied, has been laid in a tomb. What else could we do? He is dead! The man/God who preached about eternal life...has fallen? Does that mean we imagined everything? Was he just a man? But how?
Our spirits are alive when they had hung like dead limbs for so long. We can see now with our hearts where our selfishness blinded us before Him. We have little money, but know we are rich. God heard us! God loved us! What does all that mean, confronted with the tomb?
We wait, huddled together for warmth in the dank darkness that has overtaken us. Our broken hearts cry, "To whom shall we go, Lord?!?" But there is no response. We wait, grieving. God has surpised us at so many turns, maybe....but no, we want to be rational...maybe He has forgotten us again...and we shake off the doubts and accusations of the Prince of Darkness as we wait.
We will wait. If our flesh rots and our burns turn to dust while we wait on our Lord, then so be it. We have no where to go, Lord. Not after knowing you. Not after being touched by you. We will wait on you. Please, come quickly!


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